Ignored
by Invader Phoenix
Summary: He actually thought his father might care this time. That he would actually be proud of his son. That for once his best would be enough. That he would be enough. But he wasn't. He never would be. But that feeling of depression didn't last long. And it was changed by the last thing he suspected. ZADF.


Just as Important

The warm spring air laid a cheery atmosphere over the town. Flowers bloomed, bees buzzed, birds chirped out gleeful songs. The mingled scent of tulips, pansies, and daffodils spread around the neighborhood, a pleasant aroma that further brightened one's mood. Yesterday's rain was still evident- tiny puddles were scattered here and there, the sunlight reflecting off them in the most upbeat fashion. Neighbors waved to each other as they mowed their lawns. Children raced about yards, playing in sprinklers or caught up in a heated game of tag. For once in this peculiar town, everyone smiled and laughed. The world just seemed_ right_ somehow, like nothing could go wrong. Each person had their own reason to smile. Days like this were rare, precious.

Everything seemed perfect to Dib, who walked home with a smile. So perfect that he managed to ignore the heated shouts and threats from the alien walking beside him. For once it felt that that everything was going his way. Hope rested in his heart, a hope that things would get better soon. A hope that he could feel wanted, at least somewhat. A hope that his life might just turn around. A hope that-

"YOU HEAR ME, DIB-STINK? I WILL CRUSH YOU LIKE A PATHETIC INSECT! NO MATTER WHAT FOOLISH PLAN YOU HAVE IN YOUR FILTHY MEAT-HEAD BRAIN!"

The boy turned around. "Zim, be quiet."

"YOU DARE ATTEMPT TO SILENCE ZIM? I SHALL NOT BE SILENCED!"

Dib rounded the corner and walked up his driveway. "Whatever."

The infuriated shouts of the Irken out side were quickly forgotten as Dib slammed the door behind him. His sister had beaten him home and was, as usual, pounding away on her Gameslave on the couch. "Hey, Gaz. Dad's home, right?"

"Yeah," she replied in a flat voice, never looking up from her device. "He's working downstairs. I wouldn't bother him if I were you."

He ignored Gaz's final statement and rushed down the metal steps. As he entered the basement lab, the outside world faded away, replaced by a wide array of complex machines, chemicals, and devices; technology more advanced than anywhere else in the world. Screens glowed, metal instruments gleamed, and mixtures in a rainbow of colors bubbled and steamed. The hum of electricity filled the chilled air. The best on the planet. It was his father's life, the very reason he drew breath. To the Professor, science was everything. More important than anything else. Nothing came before his work. Not a single thing.

He was currently bent over a table, examining what appeared to be small robotic insects, deeply engrossed in their movements. The Professor took his eyes off them only to jot down data in a notebook. Dib cleared his throat.

"Hello, son," the Professor said, not turning around.

"Hi, Dad," he replied.

"How was school?"

That feeling of hope rose in his chest again. "It was good. I had a science test."

The word "science" caught Membrane's attention. "And how did you do?"

"I got the best score in the class," Dib announced proudly.

"What score?"

Wow. This was the longest conversation they'd had in a while. "W-what?"

"What score did you get on the test?"

"Niney-five."

Membrane froze. "A ninety-five?" He chuckled. "Oh, son, that's a good one. What score did you really get?"

"I…I wasn't joking."

The Professor turned to his son. "Well, I suppose you can do better next time."

Dib felt a lump rise in his throat. "Do better?"

"Yes. Five percentage points short from a perfect score means a lot of room for improvement."

"I got the best score in the class!" he protested.

"Then the other children require improvement as well."

"You aren't…proud?"

"Absolutely not."

"I did my best… Isn't that good enough?"

The Professor turned back to his work. "Apparently not. Your best falls short. Take this as an opportunity to increase your knowledge. Maybe if you spent less time pursuing that 'paranormal' nonsense and worked harder to study actual science, you'll have a good result next time." Without giving Dib a chance to respond, he added, "I'm glad we had this talk, son."

So that was it. No "I'm proud of you, son." No "Good job." No sign of appreciation. Only a lecture on how he could be what he didn't want to be.

Dib sauntered away dejectedly, the hope in his heart crushed like a bug under a cinderblock. He actually thought his father might care this time. That he would actually be proud of his son. That for once his best would be enough. That _he_ would be enough. But he wasn't. He never would be. Professor Membrane only cared for his own interests. If something didn't meet his standards, he ignored it and banished it from his mind. And Dib didn't meet his standards. He was his own person, a nonconformist, an outcast who strived to meet his goals despite others' discrimination. Not what his father wanted. Not what anyone wanted, really. After all, every single kid in school hated him. But this… This was different. The relentless humiliation and prejudice he received from everyone always bothered him, but the pain of his own father's rejection hurt him like nothing ever had.

He trudged up the stairs, his feet as heavy as blocks of lead. Gaz didn't look up as he emerged from the basement. Or when he slipped out the door, only to be greeted by deafening yells and insults. "You're still out here?" he shouted at Zim, who stood in the driveway.

"NO ONE IGNORES ZIM! NO OOONNNEEE!" the Irken screeched.

"Just go away!" Dib snapped. It came out a lot louder and harsher than he'd thought.

"What, to scared to fight today, Dib-worm?" Zim jeered, unfazed by his rival's tone. "Coward!"

"I'm not in the mood," he muttered. "I just want to be alone." Dib walked away, head low. There was silence behind him. All for the better. He didn't feel like talking, let alone fighting. Walking quietly down the tauntingly cheery street, he found a similarity between himself and the pavement. They were both stomped on by others without a second thought.

"Dib-stink?"

He turned around, irritated. "Can't you just leave me alone, Zim? Just this once?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned back and resumed his walk, slouching as he stared at the ground.

"What are you doing?"

Dib whirled around, ready to holler again, when he noticed the look in the Irken's eyes. He looked genuinely confused, and a bit annoyed. This was…new. "Why do you care?"

"I don't like being ignored, Dib-worm," Zim said. "And…the last time…never mind."

"It…it's nothing."

"I just said I don't like to be ignored."

"Hey, at least I'm acknowledging that you said something. So technically-"

"JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION!"

Dib felt a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. That was more like it. Sadly, this miniscule feeling of relief passed in an instant. "I…I don't want to talk about it."

"What, are you afraid? I told you that you were a coward."

Okay, Zim was annoyingly persuasive. "You aren't gonna give up, are you?"

"ZIM NEVER QUITS!"

"Fine," Dib grunted. He continued walking, the Irken moving forward to keep apace with him, until they were side by side. "I…I feel like people don't care."

"About what?"

"About me."

"You're joking. _That's_ what's bothering you?" Zim rolled his eyes. "I've never heard anything more pathetic."

"What do you know about it, anyway? You aren't like me. You have no idea," Dib said, closing his eyes.

Zim shook his head. "Foolish stink-creature." He paused. "Why do you even think that?"

"Everyone is always calling me crazy, for one thing. And they like causing me pain."

"I can understand that."

"Gee, thanks. I thought you were supposed to be helping me."

"I never said that."

"Then why am I even talking to you?"

"You should be honored that I'm even interested."

"You're really modest, you know that?"

"Thank you."

"I was being- Never mind." Dib sighed.

"Well?" Zim asked, annoyed. "What else? Is that all?"

"No…Not exactly."

"Then tell me."

"I thought you weren't going to help me."

The Irken narrowed his eyes. "I never said that, either. So why do you think no one cares about you?"

_The sooner you get this over with, the sooner he'll go away,_ Dib told himself. "My family doesn't care either. My dad…he only cares about science. Not about me. I accomplish something I think he'll be proud of, and he just tells me to do better next time. Just because it isn't perfect. And I'll never be perfect."

Zim said nothing for a moment. "That's stupid. None of your kind is perfect. You all have your own horrific flaws. In all honesty, Dib-filth, you do have a higher intelligence than most of them. The others are all ignorant. Your parental unit included."

Dib looked up at the alien. "Is that a compliment?"

He snorted. "You're still a pathetic human. Don't let it go to your gargantuan head."

"IT'S NOT-"

"IT IS!"

"JUST DROP IT." Dib glanced at the sky. "Well, I guess you're right about the 'nobody's perfect' thing. But that doesn't change the fact that my dad doesn't care. He hardly ever makes time for me or Gaz. Wouldn't he spend more time with us if he cared?"

"You expect me to know the answer to all of your questions. And while I am of superior intelligence, your planet's customs don't concern me."

"Irkens don't have parents, huh? I _knew_ I was right about it back on parent-teacher night!"

"YOU'RE LYING!"

"No, you practically admitted it! You don't have parents!" He paused as something dawned on him. "So…you don't have parents, but you're talking to me about my dad. Why?" Zim opened his mouth to shout again, but was quickly interrupted. "And don't say I'm lying! Zim, I know something's up. What is it?"

The Irken was, for once, silent. "Zim does not need to tell you anything. My motives are my motives." He turned and began to leave.

"Stop!" Dib shouted. "You've been grilling me for the last fifteen minutes. It's time for you to answer one of _my_ questions. You wanted to know what's wrong with me, so what's wrong with you?"

"If you think it's fair for me to answer, Dib-stink, when have we ever fought fair?"

Good point. Then again, reasoning never worked with Zim. Dib would have to use a different method.

"Fine, then. Don't answer my question," Dib replied nonchalantly. "It doesn't matter to me. I don't need answers from an inferior alien."

Zim whirled around. "INFERIOR? **INFERIOR**? YOU PATHETIC WORM-PIG, YOU DARE TAUNT ME? YOU COULDN'T EVEN SOLVE YOUR PATHETIC PERSONAL ISSUES, AND YOU CLAIM YOU DON'T REQUIRE MY AMAZING KNOWLEDGE? YOU'RE STUPID! YOUR WHOLE RACE IS STUPID! THEY FAIL TO SEE ANYTHING! ANYTHING!" The alien never paused for breath in his furious rant, not even noticing Dib's smirk. Good ol' reverse psychology.

"So, if I'm so stupid, how about you tell me what I want to know? Apparently, I'm too stupid to figure it out on my own," the human said.

Zim did not notice the sarcasm. "AND NOW YOU ASK ME TO DISCLOSE INFORMATION TO YOU?"

"It's one question, Zim," Dib said, getting frustrated. "Why do you want to know what's wrong with me so much?"

The Irken sighed and began walking in the opposite direction, motioning for his rival to come forward, as the latter had before. "Earlier…you ignored me, Dib-filth. The last time you did, it was because you'd given up on your futile attempts to stop me from completing my mission. Things went badly after that, I'll admit. I simply wanted to ensure it did not happen again."

"So, you…tried to help me solve my problems so that I wouldn't give up again."

"Yes."

Dib thought for a moment. "You know, it's weird. When I stopped hunting you that one time, I started doing what my dad wanted me to do. He was proud of me then, for doing what he wanted. But…it wasn't what I wanted. And now I'm feeling like I'm not worth anything…just like then. And we all know how that turned out."

"Your point?"

"My dad might not believe in the same things I do, but that doesn't mean my life isn't over. Paranormal investigation is more than my hobby- it's how I live, what I am. I've been happy doing what I care about, even without his appreciation. I don't need to be what he thinks his perfect."

"Please tell me you're finished with this maudlin speech. It's making me feel sick," Zim said bitterly.

"Anyway, don't worry. I'm not going to quit again. I learned my lesson last time," Dib said. "You really helped me today, Zim. Thanks."

Zim was caught off-guard. "You…you're welcome, Dib-filth." He took a minute to think. "Earlier, when you said no one cared about you, I told you it was pathetic-"

"Because you think acting weak is stupid," Dib cut in.

"Not only that. You felt that you meant nothing to anyone, but you do. Your sister cares, it seems. She saved you from me."

"Yeah. We kicked your butt."

"IT WAS SHEER LUCK!" he shouted. "But GIR seems to like you, as well. And…I can appreciate your abilities, Dib-worm. You are a worthy foe."

Dib smiled. "Thanks. But you know I'm going to stop you from taking over Earth. You won't get away with anything while I'm around."

"Nothing but dirty LIES! You know I am your superior, Dib-worm," Zim sneered, but he was grinning. "And next time, I WILL defeat you."

"I wouldn't count on it," Dib said.

The two parted ways, shouting comebacks at each other until out of earshot. As Dib walked toward his home, he noticed the sun inching its way closer to the horizon, the western edge of the sky slightly tinted with orange. A warm feeling had settled in his heart, driving out the cold desolation that had filled him before. Who'd have thought a conversation with _Zim_ of all people could do that? Not him, that's for certain.

The sky was turning pink when he opened his front door. Gaz was still glued to her game, in the exact same position she was in almost an hour ago. She didn't react to the sound of him coming in the house. He glanced down the hall to see his father in the kitchen, putting two slices of bread in the toaster. Pausing slightly, Dib smiled before he went up the stairs. So the Professor didn't approve of his way of life. Oh, well. He'd just keep being himself, no matter what his father said.

And who knew? Maybe someday he'd be proud.


End file.
